Page 1 of Pack Deception: Part Two

One

Summer

My thumb tapssend,and I stare at the single sentence that will likely turn my world upside down. The one I've spent the last five or so months trying to rebuild.

I know what you assholes did, and I’m going to make you PAY.

Sent to the three people who tried to ruin my life. Who lied to me, drugged me, abused me. Alphas, all three. Though how they call themselves that, I'm not sure. Cowardly is more like it. Disgusting, virulent cowards.

My adrenaline from the run over is starting to wane, the reality is setting in, and the shakes take over. Shudders ripple through me, adding to the growing tension in my body. I'm wound so tight, staring at the text, waiting for the response that'll damn me.

My phone pings, sending my heart rate through the roof, and a little whimper tries to break free, but I choke it down. It's not Pack Monroe, though.

Brooklyn

Hey, cherub. You close? xxx

Two whole minutes. That's how long I was able to forget about the most recent betrayal. From another pack I thought was with me for me.

If she's ever going to believe she's our mate, it's now.

Just another group of selfish alphas ruled by their dominating nature. Their physical and societal need to be coupled up with an omega, no matter the cost. Mason though...

He should have been different. Just last week, he was nursing me through my post-heat aches and pains with no ulterior or sexual motive. With a glance at my unkempt bed, I can practically feel his hands kneading my muscles and the smell of the minty oil he rubbed into my skin. Out of the whole pack, he should have been my safe space. But he's just like the rest.

I exit out of Brooklyn's message without responding and click the side button of my phone, shutting the screen off. A muffled thud sounds as I toss it on my bed and pace the small space in between the bed and closet, trying to distract myself from my racing thoughts. I don't want to talk or think about any of them ever again. I don't want to see their beautiful, deceitful faces. It isn't a very realistic dream, I know that. They'll keep texting and calling when I don't show. Even if I respond to tell them I'm sick, they'll just insist on coming over to take care of me. All part of their caring ruse. It's still the beginning, so they have to keep trying. Until I have their bite marks, that is. Then, their true selves will start to peek through, little by little. That's how Pack Monroe did it.

When I first left them, I read about the term love-bombing. About how it's a form of emotional abuse where someone goes above and beyond for you in the beginning only to trick you into a relationship. After which, they start to tear you back down once you've been hooked. That's what I thought had happened to me before I saw Doctor Tanner, and she told me about the passion pack. Now, I'm not sure if there ever really was extra effort put in by my three current bondmates or if the drug just made me imagine the flattery and affection. Maybe they always were assholes, and I couldn't see past the cocktail of poison traveling through my veins.

Ping.

An involuntary twitch goes through my hand like my body wants me to reach for my phone, but my mind is rebelling.

Ping.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Half a dozen messages come through before I can't take it anymore, and I check.

Unknown

Stupid, useless cow. Have you had fun spreading your fat legs for everyone in a five-mile radius?

It's time to come home, omega. You've had your fun.

We'll forgive the disrespect this time, Summer. Don't push us past our breaking points.

Hudson

Our table is ready, pretty girl. Are you on your way?

Unknown

You think you can whore yourself out without any consequences? They'll get sick of you soon enough.

Mason

Mav's starting to get hangry. I'm pretty sure the elderly woman next to us heard his stomach rumble three times already. ETA?

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